


Man! I Feel Like A Woman.

by Twelvebooks, whyamIalwaysLoislane (Whyamialwaysloislane)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Mainly Fem!Stiles, Rom-Com Scenarios, Stiles is turned into a Girl, Witches are bitches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-23
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 13:00:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1227295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twelvebooks/pseuds/Twelvebooks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whyamialwaysloislane/pseuds/whyamIalwaysLoislane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles was just going about his business, when he's attacked by witches. He thinks he's come out unscathed however, that is not true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. California Girls.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay... TEN CHAPTER RIGHT HERE!!! Co-wrote with my Beta, TwelveBooks, she writes the Even Chapters, I write the Odd.  
> Hope you likes it guys :)
> 
> {I promise I will write a ten chapter Always-A-Girl!Stiles fic soon but for now :) }

 

> **_Chapter Title: California Gurls by Katy Perry Ft. Snoop Dogg._  **
> 
>  

* * *

 

 

Stiles ran as fast as his weak ankles could take him.

All he’d wanted was a nice peaceful non-supernatural, non-lethal walk through the forest to calm his nerves but, No. So now he’s on the run from three very, very pissed off witches. He’d already lost his phone about three miles back, and just prayed that the call he’d been making when he dropped it, went through.

“We know you’re there pretty…” _Pretty?_ How stereotypical could these witches get! Stiles ran towards a large oak and pressed his back to it, slowing his breathing and holding his leg tight to stop it twitching. His Adderall was at home and he’d been out longer than expected.

“Don’t hide Stiles. We’ll find you and that pack you say you belong to…” The main witch cackled, her voice didn't match the appearance he’d bumped in too. She was about thirty with long blonde hair and red lips, the others were a brunette and a red head. Stiles would bet his last minutes on the fact that that wasn't their true forms.

Stiles gripped the tree bark until it drew blood, he cursed under his breath and peered around the tree.

That’s when a hand gripped the collard of his shirt and yanked him back. He was flung back and into another tree as the witches descended. He pressed a hand too his bleeding head as they surrounded him. Stiles felt himself drifting from consciousness. The witches growled and began chanting. Stiles could only grasp certain syllables before a flash of red eyes and a fist knocked the first witch down. The brunette gasped and finished her chanting, rushing to Stiles, slicing down his palm with her nail. She placed a crushed mixture of herbs to the cut before grabbing the other witch and fleeing. Scott was crouching beside Stiles in a matter of seconds, and Deaton scraping the mixture from the cut and cleaning it.

“You okay buddy?” Scott asked, causing Stiles to focus.

“What were you thinking?!” Derek shouted, appearing behind them. He was flanked by Isaac and Erica, who were tying up the remaining witch.

“I WENT FOR A WALK.” Stiles bit back, his head throbbing. “Can I just go home?” He asked Scott, who nodded and helped him up. The drive home was silent, except for Deaton asking Stiles the occasional question. Stiles climbed out of the car and into his house, smiling at Scott. Scott was going to call in the morning, to make sure Stiles wasn't concussed or you know fatally wounded by the bitchy witches. Stiles sluggishly climbed the stairs and flopped down onto his bed. He was asleep before his head touched the pillow.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles woke up, half on, half off his bed. He felt weird; he shifted and flopped onto his back. Yes. Something definitely weird and something was definitely missing. His eyes drifted from the ceiling down to his chest. Only, it wasn't his chest. His usual _MALE_ torso was gone replaced by a _FEMALE_ torso. Complete with boobs and everything.

Stiles looked back up to the ceiling and back down again.

Yup. Still there. Stiles shot out of the bed, unnerved by the swiftness and agility of his movements in this body. He tried to move quickly to the computer screen, to check his face, however he tripped on his pajama bottoms that had become seriously loose this morning. He went flying onto the clutter of his floor with a bang, alerting his father’s attention.

“Stiles?” His father’s voice came from outside his door, pushing it open slightly with caution.

“Yeah.” Stiles tested his voice and it surprised him. His voice wasn't his anymore, he could recognize the accent but higher and weirdly dainty.

“What the hell, Stiles?” His dad pushed the door open to find, Stiles, well now-a-girl Stiles tangled in his pajamas pant, face down on the floor.

“Don’t look!” He squealed as he stood up, holding his pants up and running a hand through his hair. (This was still short. He hadn't grown Rapunzel locks in the last 12 hours, thank GOD. He’d only just gathered the courage to grow out the Buzz Cut)

“Well, hi dad.” The sheriff looked his son up and down.

“What happened Stiles?” He asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“I am not sure Dad. But right now I am a girl.” Stiles looked down; his once tight fitting shirt was baggy and hung over his stomach and newly formed waist, falling to his mid-thigh.

“Okay, I’m going to work, you deal with this…” The sheriff waved his arms aimlessly and left Stiles to it.

Stiles examined his face in the mirror. Most of his features were the same; the same lips, just fuller, moles all still there. His eyes were wider and more heavily lashed his jaw slimmer and well basically he was a GIRL. A hot girl, but a girl none the less. Stiles rubbed a hand up and down his face and grabbed his phone. Scott picked up after the third ring.

“I was just about to ring… What’s up?” Scott asked into the phone.

“Guess.” Stiles said, and Scott choked on whatever he was eating. “Dude,” Which sounded so weird in this voice, “We have a bit of a problem.”

“Stiles? What’s up with your voice?” Scott asked, voice dripping with worry.

“Dude, I’m a girl.” Stiles replied, in the best, I-am-so-fucking-done voice he could manage. He may need a while to get used to that, a part of him prayed he wouldn't get the blissful pleasure to do that.

“I’m on my way.” Stiles could hear Scott’s giggles through the phone. Stiles put down the phone, slid into the shower and tried his hardest not to look down, just focusing on washing his hair. He climbed out, donned a towel and groaned. He searched for another towel and fixed it around his chest. He began walking to his room when it became loose and dropped to the floor.

“The fuck?!” Stiles growled and recovered himself, he shuffled awkwardly back into his room ignoring how weird walking felt. The towel fell of twice, before he threw it into the corner in an angry fit. He awkwardly wiggled into a pair of boxers and jeans fixing his belt as tight as it could go, finishing it off with a t-shirt and a checked shirt. He was dressed in time for Scott to arrive. Scott spent five minutes chuckling, two minutes checking Stiles out before returning to laughing.

“Fuck you man.” Stiles growled, and it came out as a more menacing growl than it ever did when he was his original gender. Scott looked up and towards Stiles, a little scared.

“You know what we have to do, man.” Scott clapped Stiles on the shoulder, before retracting his hand immediately. “Wo-man…” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Yeah.” Stiles sighed. “Might as well get it all over with.”


	2. Not Just a Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles And Scott endure shopping and Derek is awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two, written by my wonderful beta! Twelvebooks!! :D ITs a awesome Chapter... You should like read it...  
> She's good.

> _**Chapter Title: Not Just a Girl By She Wants Revenge** _

Lydia met them at the mall.

Both Stiles and Scott looked at her in fear as she examined Stiles’ makeshift outfit, and despite being made aware of the situation Lydia’s scrutiny knew no bounds and the look that she gave them both as she spotted them eating fries would haunt them till they died.

“Ha ha ha ha ha I’M SO SORRY LYDIA BUT TO BE FAIR I WAS NOT PREPARED!”

“We need to stop for a bra first, then shoes, then skirts, dresses tops and jeans. There’s a hair appointment booked for three so we need to be done for then and I have a make-up artist waiting for you at the beauty salon.” She stalked away in a manner which clearly implied that if she was not followed then blood would be spilled.Both Scott and Stiles hurriedly threw away their food and scurried after her, matching expressions of horror on their faces as they realised their first stop was the underwear section of the women’s store, the place no man enters with a willing heart.

Lydia almost had to force Stiles out of his top so that she could try and estimate the bra size that would be required and whilst Lydia went out to search out some underwear that she seemed acceptable, and judging by the fancy décor of the changing room hideously out of Stiles’ price range, Stiles observed the reflection in the mirror.

It was not his own but at the same time the eyes peering back at him where the same hazeley colour that had different people comparing them to gold and amber and sometimes even brown which Stiles found exceptionally dull. The hair was the exact same shade of brown and a similar length to what his own had been. Moles were scattered along the pale skin where they had been before.

But that is where the similarities ended.

There where curves where there had been none before, there were now two areas on the chest area that definitely hadn't been there before and a certain extremity in the lower regions that was quite noticeably missing. But Stiles’ supposed that the female version of himself was actually kinda cute. In fact in any other situation the term “hella fine” may actually have been applied. Not that the apparent attractiveness of Stiles’ new body was in any way a consolation but, Stiles had to admit, it was very considerate of the witches not to make him a troll or something of that like.

Whilst Stiles had been pondering all this Lydia had found several different underwear sets that she had deemed appropriate and was now passing them through the extravagant velvet curtain that led to the changing rooms.

“Try these on; let me know how you feel about the size but hurry up because we have a lot of shopping to do. And don't even think about being sassy with me right now Stilinski, I am your best link into the life of a teenage girl and whether you like it or not you are my puppet today and will do exactly as I asked or so help me God I will kill you with my mascara brush!”

“Erm how exactly would you be able to do that?” Stiles asked whilst trying on the bra’s because despite the awkwardness of the situation Lydia was right, plus he was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable not wearing a bra.

“Are you really going to ask that? Would you like a demonstration? I could do more damage with my mascara than you could with your father’s gun.” Stiles didn't doubt her for a moment. After the terrifying ordeal in the underwear section the rest of the shopping passed surprisingly without any hiccups. Stiles did feel uncomfortable with the tightness of some of the clothes and Scott had disappeared during the time in the lingerie buying so there was no support from that corner. The hair was shaped, the brows where plucked, the face was contoured (whatever that means) and the eyes where highlighted with several kinds of makeup that made them incredibly itchy. If he rubbed them the consequence would be death. And this time using a whole range of make-up utensils.

Stiles was **_not_** going to rub them.

 

* * *

 

 

“Ok Stiles are you ready for this?” Lydia asks as they reached the pack house.

“Erm yeah sure, sooo ready. I was born ready. Ready is so what I am. I am ready. Ready to go. Raring to go, some people say that right? I'm pretty sure I’ve heard people say that before. Why would they say it though I mean it makes no actual sense?” Then Lydia hit him (her?).

“Stiles shut the front door. You need to breathe and then walk in there like you’re me because I must say I’ve done a really good job.” And with that Stiles was pushed into the house and crowded by the pack.

“Hey Stiles you’re back! I’m sorry for leaving you with Lydia but you were buying bra’s man I just couldn’t and woah wait dude!” Scott then proceeded to look up and down Stiles in an appreciative manner that somehow seemed to remain completely platonic, because eugh they are practically related!

“What is it? Did Lydia have the make-up person do a bad thing to my face?”

“What no dude you’re hot! Like super-hot! OMG you’re the hot girl!”

“Ha ha you bet man! Woooh!” Stiles fist-pumped the air and then proceeded to hive five everyone that was not too busy either laughing or ogling, which turned out to be only Scott and Alison.

“Now guys all calm down we need to montage this properly! Everyone into the living room whilst I find some 80’s music. Oh and someone find Derek I’m sure he’s gonna want to see this.” Lydia sauntered out of the room whilst everyone else started to move. Derek then sauntered down the stairs and froze when he saw Stiles laughing at Isaac’s dumbfounded expression.

“Erm right ok then, Stiles?” Derek questioned as he knew that this girl smelt like Stiles, and even kind of looked like Stiles, but there was also the blaringly obvious fact that this was a girl. And a girl is something that Stiles is not. Or at least not to Derek’s previous knowledge.

“Aaah so you hadn't heard then. Yes it’s me. I am now a girl. Those witches probably thought it would be a fun and amusing yet torturous way to punish us. But yeah anyway what do you think of the new, but hopefully temporary, me?”

“Erm, well, ah. Hmm. You look, eer, good? No great. Er yeah good look.” And with that awkward compliment Derek left the room blushing and dreading the humiliation that was sure to follow.


	3. All-American Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a hard time coming to turn with female Stiles.  
> Meanwhile, Stiles isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOoo. This one's delay was ALLL my fault.... Sorry but here it is! 
> 
> 1.095 words written on a college computer. Hella Proud.

Stiles stretched. Again. Ever since he magically bloomed boobs, he's been stretching. Over appliances, across worktops, up to reach the pop tarts. It was damn right annoying and distracting. That little patch of skin that flashed when that too-tight shirt-thing Lydia purchased for him/her, had Derek's (and Isaac's) eyes dragging. 

Erica sniggered.

Erica  _always_ sniggered. 

Stiles rolled her shoulders and flexed her biceps; there was still the underlying muscle mass that had blossomed in Stiles in the past few years. The way he moved was still jerky and Stiles-esque. He. She. Derek didn't know what pronoun to use. 

He wasn't easily confused. Derek knew there was something about the dorky human teen that had him tripping over threats, but being given hit flat out in the face with Stiles as a girl. Derek just didn't know. 

What he did know was that Stiles skirts were getting shorter.  

God his legs where long.

How had he never noticed how long the guy’s legs were? 

They just went on. 

And on.

Erica cleared her throat, loudly and obnoxiously. By the look on Isaac's face, his train of thought was along the same lines. Derek couldn't decide whether to exchange a sympathetic look with him or glare at him until he never thought of Stiles that way ever again. 

Aww Fuck. 

Derek has a problem.

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles has to say he's adjusting to life as a female. Well it's been two days since the magic blossoming of the boobs and the disappearing of his penis. He's almost broke his neck on the six inch wedges Lydia flung at him, almost ten times in the past three days. It hasn't been that much of a right royal bitch to him, apart from the fact he keeps catching Isaac staring at his legs, and not only Isaac.  Oh Yes. Mr Big Bad Sour Wolf My knickers are permanently in a twist grouch Derek Hale has been staring and not subtly at all.

Stiles should know he's the King of Subtle.

Queen?

Princess?

He's a member of the fucking royal family.

Scott's doing his best, bless his little soul. His eyes follow Stiles hips whenever he walks, and it looks like he's put Allison on Perv-watch. She conveniently slaps him every time Stiles is there.

Boys are animals.

When he voices his Hypothesis to Lydia, she slaps him over the head and struts off shaking her head. It's all done fondly but jeez she has a hard hit.

So here he is, (Yes He. STILES STILINSKI IS MALE) sat on Derek's crappy couch, in Derek's weird minimalist loft with Derek's odd Uncle staring at him.

"You smell like..." Peter asks, eyes raking over Stiles in a way that makes him wish he's wearing so much more clothing.

"Stiles. It's Stiles." Derek snaps, looking over the map of the Witches forest he'd spread across the table. Scott stood away from Derek, with Isaac in between. Erica was looking at her nails not the map and Boyd was watching Erica look at her nails. Allison was the only one (par Derek) who was actually trying to solve the problem of Stiles' vagina. Stiles would bet all of his Reese's on that she was getting tired of hitting her boyfriend, because Stiles ass is too fine. Or something along those lines. "This is why we need to go find the witches."

"Witches are total bitches." Stiles smirked. Peter sighed.

"Definitely Stiles." Peter pulled himself off the spiral staircase he liked to lurk on and moved over to the map. Stiles took this as his cue to move. He stood up, shimmied his skirt further down and hitched up his socks. Then began walking. Walking short distances weren't that hard. He found reciting the Lyrics to Bad Romance worked excellently for the perfect strut.

_Walk, one foot. Walk, other foot. Fashion baby work it move that bitch crazy._

He hummed the lyrics as he butt shoved Isaac out of the way and wiggled up next to Derek.

"Where were you attacked?"

"Attacked? More like accosted by hella bitchy witches." Stiles snapped, and placed a manicured nail on the spot.

"Okay, Stiles we get it, witches equal bitches." Erica groaned.

"What about Deaton?" Scott asked, that look of confusion splashing across his face.

"He's not a witch, he's a veterinarian." Isaac popped up, face of full of pride and smile beaming. Stiles rolled his eyes and ruffled his curls. Derek let out a noise that somewhere between a whimper and a growl. Stiles looked up to find Derek's face completely calm. 

Except the ears.  


His ears were flushed pink.  


He straightened up and jetted out.  


"What's up with Bunny-Teeth?" Stiles asked, and Erica coughed before following him out.  


  


 

 

* * *

 

For as long as the spell worked, Stiles was exchange student Daphne (if he was going to be a woman he was going to go out Some Like it Hot style. Maybe then he'd get a guy with a boat), from Colorado. Which was were Stiles was right now. Danny worked his computer magic, after ten minutes of staring at Stiles before sighing.  


"You were hotter as a guy." Stiles took that as a win.  


Stiles was pressed against his new locker, legs crossed and Lydia messing with his hair.  


"I want a guy with a boat." Stiles breathed.  


"A boat?"  


"Yeah, a boat? Like a yacht or like a rowboat. As long as it floats." Stiles sighed.  


"Derek could probably build you a raft." Erica chuckled, appearing to the side of him, clad in her usual Hale Pack Leather.  


"Don't you get ridiculously sea sick?" Allison asked from her locker.  

"That's not the point. And Erica, please don't put images like that in my  head." He did not mind the mental image. At all. Derek building him a raft in his tight wife beater, with his bunny teeth biting his lip and all hot and sweaty. Ugh, Stiles needs a moment.  


Dead pup- wait.  


"Why is he grinning like Greenberg just fell over?" Scott asked, winding an arm around Allison.  


"No. Awkward. Boners!" Stiles shouted, fist bumping the air. The corridor fell creepily silent.  


"Well done, dude." Scott laughed, holding Allison who was keeled over with giggles. Lydia smiled. The smile was 40% Evil. Well, maybe 60.  


"Plus." Lydia announced leaning closer to Stiles ear, she was on her tip toes. Her idea to give the already six foot guy/girl heels was a bad idea. "Multiple Orgasms."  


"Okay. I need to get laid. Like right now." Stiles exclaimed, arms flailing so much he almost fell into the bin.


End file.
